


Dark Eyes Over Stormwind Keep

by Lady_Mischievous



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, M/M, some mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 09:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22713799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Mischievous/pseuds/Lady_Mischievous
Summary: Haunted in his dreams, Anduin teeters on the line between light and shadow.
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 16
Kudos: 65
Collections: Love is in the Air Fic Exchange 2020





	Dark Eyes Over Stormwind Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beccafiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beccafiend/gifts).



> To Beccafiend. This is my first time writing a Wranduin fic, I do hope that you'll enjoy it. :D

It was hard for Anduin to breathe. The ropes that bound him to a wooden pole were tied so tightly, that they constricted his chest. He was atop a scaffold in the middle of Cathedral Square, where wood was being piled at his feet. The crowd that gathered to see the execution of their king was a sea of bloodthirsty spectators. Earlier they had paraded him through the streets, Anduin had been cussed at and spat on. A paper crown was placed upon his head in mockery. 

Had he truly been that horrible of a king? What could he have done differently to ease the suffering of his people? One would think such questions in Anduin’s position would be foolish but that was simply how he was. Kind, perhaps too much so, and wanting to do right for his kingdom. It was just that all of Azeroth seemed against him in his endeavor. Money that could have gone to helping the people of Westfall was spent on bullets and tech (or found its way into a nobleman’s pocket to fund one of their soirees). People and supplies that could have helped in rebuilding Darkshire were shipped off to the frontlines of yet  _ another _ war.

Anduin looked out at the crowd that was howling for his death. Their eyes reminded him of smoldering coals, their orange stares burning into him. Something in the back of his mind tugged at him. A feeling, perhaps a voice (his own?) that was small and distant, screamed at him helplessly.

“I do wish that you listened to me sooner, my friend.” spoke a familiar voice. Someone was walking towards him on the scaffold.

Anduin looked up to find that it was Wrathion. The feelings of failure and dread that had been brewing inside him had begun to burn away, being replaced by a rage that flared like wildfire. 

“You…!?” Anduin rasped as he pulled against his bindings. “ _ You _ did this…?!”

“Are you really  _ that _ surprised?” Wrathion asked with a slight smirk. “My interests are for the future of Azeroth. If that means toppling incompetent kings, then so be it.” 

The Dragon Prince then reached out and combed his fingers through Anduin’s hair. He brushed it away from the young king’s eyes and tucked it behind his ear. There was a certain affection in the action but it felt  _ off _ . It felt  _ fake _ . Anduin pulled away from the touch and looked Wrathion over. They looked like him, sounded like him, but his eyes were too orange, and there was something in his voice. No matter how angry Anduin was with him, he couldn’t say that Wrathion was necessarily sinister. Something was wrong.

Anduin’s anger faded but there was still a hint of defiance in his eyes as he asked: “Who are you?”

Wrathion blinked, a little surprised by the question. His head canted slightly before giving an amused smirk. “Has despair addled your mind that much, boy-king? It’s I, Wrath--”

“You’re  _ not _ Wrathion.” Anduin interrupted him. There was no wavering in his voice, he said it as a fact. With that, like a domino effect, Anduin began to realize the surreal feeling of everything around him.

Looking out to the crowd, Anduin could see that they had all fallen silent, still staring at him. While it was the eyes of many, it felt like they all truly belonged to one creature. A shadow grew from behind the crowd, spreading over the cobblestone ground of Cathedral Square and crawling up the walls of the buildings. Anduin’s eyes grew wide with horror as he could see the shadow take on the silhouette of N’Zoth. He then looked back to Wrathion--no, the  _ imposter _ .

‘Wrathion’ gave a dramatic sigh and looked disappointed. “I go through all this trouble, crafting this beautiful scene, just for you and you refuse to play along in my little drama? You won’t indulge me? Even the tiniest of bit?”

“No.” Anduin said defiantly.

“Very well, have it your way,  _ little cub _ .” The Imposter closed his eyes, three slits began to form on his face. One down the middle of his forehead, two others where his cheekbones were. They all opened, revealing three orange glowing eyes. The Imposter opened ‘Wrathion’s’ original set of eyes to join them. “I’m not taking off this guise though, it’s a tad snug but I rather like it.”

“Take it off!” Anduin snapped. “Stop hiding like a coward!”

“No, I don’t think I will.” The Imposter smirked before reaching out and playfully scratching Anduin under the chin. “I quite enjoy how masquerading in this form bothers you. It’s amus--”

Anduin bit the Imposter’s hand, surprising him and forcing him to pull it away.

“Ooh…” The Imposter said while shaking his hand. “The little cub has some teeth. I have several sets of my own that I can break you on, but I’ll refrain. No, I haven’t come to kill you, I come bearing an olive branch.”

“ _ This _ is your idea of a peace offering?” Anduin asked skeptically.

“Oh come now, I know you’re smarter than that.” The Imposter said with a roll of all his eyes. “I merely show you your potential future. You know it as well as I do.” The Imposter leaned in closer yet was still just out of reach for another attempted bite. Wrathion’s face was further twisted with a feral grin, showing off a set of sharp teeth. “You can feel it in your bones, can’t you? Your people are tired of endless war. Having to ration as their resources and children are shipped off to fuel a war machine.”

Anduin said nothing. Partially so not to give the Imposter any more ammunition and partially because it was hard to argue. The truth was, Anduin had his own doubts about his ability to rule as a king.

“Your father left you with quite the mess, didn’t he?” The Imposter asked, his voice was laced with the slightest hint of sympathy. “No matter how you look at it, he was an awful king.”

“Don’t you dare slander my father!” Anduin snapped.

“It’s the truth though.” The Imposter continued. “Your kingdom has been struggling for  _ years _ . Orcs, gnolls and ettn’s running rampant in Redridge. Darkshire is in ruins and is struggling to rebuild. Westfall is a sunbaked husk of its former glory, full of the homeless and starving.” The Imposter then moved in close, inches away from Anduin’s face. “Your people are  _ angry _ , little cub. Can you blame them? They can barely count on Stormwind to protect them when in need. Instead, they rely on adventurers and mercenaries to get things done.”

“Shut up!” Anduin shouted. “Stop talking in  _ his _ voice! Stop wearing  _ his _ face!”

“No, like it or not, I’m doing you a favor, boy-king.” The Imposter said. “Laying eyes on my true form might break your mind and I need you coherent.”

“What do you want!? Haven’t you done enough!?”

“As I said before, I’m here to warn you.” The Imposter explained. “Resentment is brewing in your kingdom.” As the Imposter said this, Anduin’s mind filled with images of those who were suffering. How his people were growing more frustrated. Stormwind and Alliance flags being burned at gatherings. “The drums of revolution will rumble throughout the halls of your Keep. This very well could be your future, child. While your father is remembered as a brave and strong king, you will be a scapegoat for all he left behind.”

Anduin was silent, he bit his lower lip as part of him wanted to tell them how wrong they were. No such words came, for deep down, he knew his captor wasn’t necessarily wrong. He had heard the whispers around his own keep. From noble to servant Anduin was being compared to his late father. It was as frustrating as the constant comparisons to Arthas Menethil he endured throughout his life. So instead, Anduin asked: “Why are you trying to ‘help’ me?”

At that, the Imposter’s several eyes all lit up as he smiled. Surprisingly it wasn’t feral or twisted, it was oddly genuine. “You’re interesting, while you are one of the Light’s favored, the void has taken a liking to you as well. You have so much potential.”

“Not for the power of the void.”

“Oh? You don’t think so?” The imposter asked, looking amused. “Who do you think you’re trying to lie to, little cub? When the Light can’t get a job done, you’ve turned to the void before. Whether you use it to twist a dwarf’s thoughts so you can continue an adventure or wish to flay the mind of an orc dictator, it comes from the exact same place.”

The Imposter reached out and gently, almost affectionately, placed a clawed hand on the young king’s chest. Anduin was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat. 

Something within him then twitched.

Anduin gasped as pain and pressure stirred where his heart was. Another twitch, more violent than the first. Anduin felt something inside him split open, forcing itself to spread out within his chest. The strange sensation began to surge upwards, up into his throat making him gag and choke. With one more push, a dark plume of thick smoke forced its way out from Anduin’s mouth. It flowed swirled through the air, like ink being spilled into water. What Anduin could not see, was the slit forming down the center of his forehead. It struggled to open, revealing itself to be an eye that matched the Imposter’s.

“Soon, your eyes will open.” The Imposter said, smiling fondly with Wrathion’s face. “But for now, it’s time to wake up.”

Anduin’s eyes snapped open as he woke with a jolt. He sat up, finding himself at his desk and looking down at a document with ink smeared across it. Anduin raised a hand and touched his cheek then looked at his fingers to find them stained with ink. He had fallen asleep at his desk.

Anduin gave a small sigh of relief. His heart was still pounding from fear but was gradually calming. His head however felt light as though it had been stuffed with cotton. He tried to recall the details of his dream but found them muddled. He remembered being on a scaffold, his people cheering for his misery, and…

Anduin closed his eyes and rubbed one of his temples. That was the last person he wanted to think about. It didn’t help that they were currently staying in the Keep with other guests. The hand that Anduin had used to punch Wrathion in the face with clenched as he remembered the feeling of impact.

-o-o-o-

Wrathion touched his cheek where he had been punched by Anduin the day before. Their reunion hadn’t quite gone the way he had hoped. He knew that he should have been thankful that it was only a punch he got. Light knew that it could have been so much worse. The chunk of his father’s jaw that hung as a grisly trophy was proof enough of that.

The accommodations that he had been given were nice. Although, Wrathion  _ did _ have to sweep the room several times to find whatever spying devices the SI:7 planted in his room. He couldn’t say that he blamed them for being suspicious after everything they had been through with his flight in the past. To the people of Stormwind Keep, they saw in him every other black dragon that wronged them in the past. While Wrathion carried himself with certain grace and pride, it was a mask that hid his anxieties.

Wrathion sighed, now wasn’t the time to be thinking of such things. He had to focus on the task at hand, for Azeroth...for… Wrathion bit his lower lip, mentally stamping out that thought before it could continue, he needed to focus.

So of course, the young dragon immediately got distracted when he heard a loud tapping at the window of his room. When Wrathion looked towards it, he was greeted by the sight of an enormous raven perched outside the glass. It stared back at him with eyes as green as emeralds before giving a low, deep croak. A smile tugged at the corner of Wrathion’s mouth as he felt his mood start to lift. He walked towards the window and opened it for his feathered guest.

The raven hopped down from the windowsill and padded its way towards the middle of Wrathion’s suite. It surveyed the room as it came to a halt, looked up to Wrathion and canted its head in a curious way.

“I’ve already searched the room, it’s safe.” Wrathion said reassuringly.

The raven gave one last weary look around before it began to shift shape. Wrathion stepped back as he watched the bird take on the form of a tall, lean built man with long, black hair and piercing green eyes. Wrathion’s guest was dressed down from his mage regalia. He was clad in casual attire, a loose-fitting poet’s shirt, and comfortable pair trousers. To an outside observer, one might have thought the pair might have been related. Their style from their hair to how they carried themselves were suspiciously similar. One wouldn’t have suspected that Wrathion had spent time with Azeroth’s previous Guardian, mainly since that man was  _ supposed _ to be dead.

“This is an interesting turn of events.” Wrathion said, intrigued. “What brings you to Stormwind, Medivh? I thought Khadgar whisked you and Moroes away to Dalaran after your tower was attacked by agents of the void.”

“That he did.” Medivh sighed. Dalaran was far from his favorite place but it was interesting seeing how much had changed since he was last there. “He’s kept me close but Moroes and I were concerned about the tower. So we went to go check if things cleared up. Karazhan has a bit of indigestion and we need to get back to work on repairs but I digres--.”

Right then, the voice of Moroes could be heard coming from just outside of the window. “ _ And _ he was also concerned about  _ you _ .”

Medivh’s mouth formed a firm line and huffed out an annoyed sigh through his nose. “I was not. Wrathion’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”

“Oh? So you were scrying in your morning tea just for fun then?” Moroes drawled.

Medivh cast a glare to the window, where the loyal steward was keeping watch. He could  _ feel _ the smug smirk Moroes likely had on his face right then. “Okay, fine, I was a  _ little _ concerned.”

Wrathion gave a smug smile of his own. “You know, you wouldn’t have to be so concerned if you reconsidered my offer and join my Black Talons. I could use all the help I can get, Guardian.”

“Not a chance.” Medivh countered. “And that’s  _ ex _ -Guardian, thank you very much. I’m going to enjoy what life I have left in peace.”

“Good luck doing that being with Khadgar.” Wrathion quipped. “But my offer will always be open to you all the same.”

“Anyway…” Medivh said, his tone was firm, trying to move on to another subject. “As Moroes said, I was scrying and I am here out of concern.”

Upon hearing that, Wrathion’s smile faded a bit. During his stay in Karazhan, he had learned to heed warnings the Guardian gave. It was one such warning that alerted Wrathion when it was no longer going to be safe in the Magus’ tower.

“Is it about me?” Wrathion asked, he then paused as a horrid thought occurred to him. “Is it about Anduin?”

“...Both.” Medivh said. He paused, looking uncertain for a moment as he took a moment to pick out his words. That was one of the troubles with divination, sometimes how one spoke of a prediction could affect whether they happened or not. Sometimes it served better to be cryptic when trying to nudge one onto a better path, other times it didn’t. It was difficult to tell with Wrathion what would serve him better. The Dragon Prince had matured quite a bit but was still so young and hard-headed. “You, I’m certain will be fine, as for Llane’s grandson…It’s safe to say, he may need your personal support now more than ever.”

Wrathion’s eyes grew wide and heart sank like a stone. “What did you see? You have to tell me! Anduin--”

Medivh raised his hand to his own lips and made a motion as if he were zipping them closed. Wrathion found his own mouth suddenly closed and refused to open.

“I need you to listen and not panic.” Medivh said gently. “I know you care for him and I’d personally hate to see harm come to the grandson of my best friend. So please, calm yourself and listen.” Medivh waited a moment for Wrathion to settle down before continuing. “You are aware of N’Zoth’s growing sway over Stormwind, I’m sure. But how much of that sway do you think already has the Keep in its grasp?”

“Anduin’s surrounded…?” Wrathion said, finding that he could speak again. “We have to get him out of here then!”

“He will refuse.” Medivh countered. “You’ll be seen as an enemy and it will not stop the problem. This isn’t a situation where you can act so brazen, you have to act with tact.”

Wrathion bit his lower lip. Part of him wanted to object, to say that even Anduin refused, he’d take him any way. But that wasn’t who he was anymore, at least, not who he wanted to be. “And what would you do then?”

“It’s not a matter of what  _ I _ would do, it’s what  _ you _ are capable of doing.” Medivh said. The Magus then raised a hand and with a snap of his fingers, a portal tore open above him. From it, a violin and bow floated down which he caught and presented to Wrathion. “Barnes was upset that you forgot to take this with you. He wants you to keep up with your practice.”

Wrathion was a little surprised to see the instrument. While staying in Karazhan he not only got to know Medivh but many of the tower’s denizens. Despite being undead, they still functioned as one large, eccentric family. They accepted Wrathion and helped Medivh open up to him. Music was one of the skills he had learned during his stay.

“I’m not too sure what good that would do me here.” Wrathion said as he accepted the violin.

Medivh smiled. “One of the reasons why I love music is how it can affect one’s state of mind.”

Wrathion raised an eyebrow. He looked at his violin and then back at Medivh. “Did you enchant this?”

“Maybe…” Medivh said with a shrug, his smile turned more mischievous.

“But then what do I do?” Wrathion asked. “If I go around fiddling a jig wherever I go, they’ll think me mad.”

“I’d start with the servants.” Medivh suggested. In his head, there was a snarky remark but he refrained. “Growing up in the Keep myself, I can tell you that if you win them over, you’ve won half the battle. They’d likely be a focus for corruption due to their mobility and their numbers. Their lives are often harder as they are looked down on and given jobs the nobility doesn’t want to do. Whispers of power and change would be most tempting.”

Wrathion was quiet for a moment as he mulled over Medivh’s words.

“Medivh…” Moroes said, poking his head into the room. “...We should take our leave.”

Medivh looked to his faithful steward then back to Wrathion. “Seems that it’s time to say goodbye again.”

Wrathion was visibly a little disappointed but didn’t voice it. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon but please, reconsider my offer in joining the Black Talons.”

Medivh didn’t give him an answer, only an amused smile before he shifted his form back into that of a raven. With a running start, he took off and flew out the open window. Wrathion was alone again. He looked at the gifted violin, feeling all that he had gained and smiled to himself.

-o-o-o-

It was fairly late when Anduin went for a walk about the keep. It was something his father would often do, sometimes accidentally waking Anduin up when he stopped by his room to check on him. When that happened, Anduin would join him because his father seemed lonely. Occasionally, when his thoughts refused to be quiet, Anduin would continue the practice. Perhaps, part of him hoped he’d feel his father’s presence with him. That he was there, watching over him.

But Anduin felt nothing.

The halls of the Keep at night were dreadfully lonely and quiet. But as of late, there was something more sinister about it all. At times, it would feel like the very shadows were watching him. That something was stalking him, waiting for him to let his guard down just enough to pounce on him.

Little did the young king know, he wasn’t far from the truth. Behind him, the shadows would sometimes stir. Taking the shape of twisted silhouettes or clawed hands that would reach for him but would stop short of grasping him. It wasn’t time yet, Anduin wasn’t ready. Soon, very soon, that seed of darkness inside of him would take root.

That was when his ears caught distant sounds. Anduin pace went to a pause and he listened, trying to make out what he was hearing. Voices. Not whispers but laughter and cheers being carried upon the upbeat tune of a violin. Anduin’s eyes squinted as it was rather late. No noble would dare have one of their soirees so late at the Keep. For  _ that _ kind of event, it would have been taken to one of their estates, far from the prying eyes of the Church. No, this was something different.

Anduin followed the sounds of music and revelry. The shadows shifted, twisting and following after the boy-king, only to be pushed back by something unseen. Forced to keep a distance as Anduin made his down one of the hallways and found one of the servants’ passages. Special, hidden halls, used by servants, staff, and SI:7 members to move about Stormwind Keep without being seen. It was part of an archaic tradition that the nobles kept insisting was important to keep.

Anduin followed the passage, where the music grew louder and more clear. Something about it drew the young king towards it and eventually found himself entering the Servant’s Quarters. It was in the lower levels of the Keep, where many of the staff lived and where all the servants’ passageways eventually met. The music must have been traveling through them, making its way throughout Stormwind Keep.

Anduin continued to follow the music to its source, eventually finding himself standing in the doorway where the servants were celebrating. They were dancing as a band of staff and a few guardsmen played on a number of instruments. One musician stood out from the rest, it was Wrathion who was fiddling away on a violin. People clapped along with the beat of the song as others danced together. Anduin watched them for a while as an unseen spectator.

Until Wrathion had caught sight of him. His playing came to an abrupt halt, catching some of the other musicians off guard. Gradually, the music and revelry slowed to a pause as all eyes locked onto the young king. For the briefest of moments, the brightly lit room flickered into a scene most sinister. Staff, guard, and Wrathion all stared at him with bright, orange-red eyes. But with a blink, that image was gone.

“Your majesty...?” one servant finally spoke up. It was almost surreal to see the king of all people in the Servants’ Quarters.

Anduin took a step back. He was a little at a loss for words, feeling embarrassed and out of place. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you all. The music...it led me here and…”

“You enjoyed it?” Wrathion finished for him. He then smiled back at Anduin. “Stormwind has some wonderful folk music.”

“Damn right we do.” one guard spoke up. “Blows that Gilnean trash out of the water.”

“Oi! Them’s fightin’ words, you son of a gnoll!”

“Yeah? Show me a tune that beats ‘The Stormwind Storm’!”

“That yowlin’ has nothing on ‘Howlin’ Hills’!”

The atmosphere in the room lightened as people laughed at the exchange while others goaded the musicians on. Wrathion stepped down from the makeshift stage they had set up. He bowed and thanked his fellow musicians for letting him join them and made a promise to play with them again.

Anduin watched in silence. For the first time since Wrathion first arrived in the Keep, he was able to see the Dragon Prince clearly. Not painted in the boiling rage that stewed within him unknowingly due to old god influence. Wrathion carried himself differently than he had when they last saw each other. There was a certain maturity and confidence he had that Anduin couldn’t help but envy.

“Sorry if we woke you.”

Anduin jumped slightly when he realized Wrathion was suddenly so close. “N-no, you didn’t…” he corrected. “I was already up when I heard the music.”

“It’s kind of late, isn’t it?” Wrathion asked.

“I’m not a child anymore, advisor.” Anduin countered defensively. “Besides, the same can be said for you. I’d prefer you not be sneaking around the keep at night.”

“Is that so?” Wrathion said with an impish smile. His mood was still light from the festivities otherwise he would have been more worried about getting another punch. “Feel free to escort me back to my room then, your majesty.”

“That’s the plan.” Anduin said, quite seriously. “Start moving.”

Wrathion gave a blink, a little surprised. He waited a moment to see if there was some punchline or any other hint that he was joking. Wrathion waited a moment, staring back at Anduin’s all too serious face.

“Well?” Anduin said with a frown. “Go on.”

“Oh…” Wrathion blinked again. “You were serious?”

Anduin moved behind Wrathion and gave him a good push forward to get him moving. Wrathion didn’t fight and went along with it. He walked ahead of Anduin for a little while before gradually slowing his pace to walk at his side. The music of the party they left behind was growing distant and muffled without the enchanted violin to carry its songs. The two boys walked in silence through the darkened passageways as Anduin tried to navigate their way back to the upper levels of the Keep.

There was so much that Wrathion wanted to say then and there. Feelings and thoughts on the tip of his tongue but no words to properly articulate them.

“Where did you learn how to play the violin?” Anduin asked, shattering the silence between them. “Not that I actually care, it’s just...too quiet.”

“I made some friends during my travels.” Wrathion said as a small smile spread across his face. 

“Did these friends do…” Anduin motioned to the entirety of the Dragon Prince. “...this?”

“I’ll have you know that I have a  _ fantastic _ fashion sense. But there is one friend who inspired me.” Wrathion admitted. “...Just a little.”

“You’ve seemed to have grown up a bit.” Anduin added. He told himself that he merely wanted to keep the conversation going to keep the silence at bay. But that was only part of it, Anduin was genuinely curious. “You almost act like a real noble.”

“I had to go through grueling training with the strictest teacher.” Wrathion sighed. Memories of the work and practice he had to do under Moroes came flooding back to him. “It’s much harder than you make it look.”

“Me?” Anduin gave a half laugh at hearing that.

“Yes,  _ you _ .” Wrathion said. “If I had to pick an ideal example of nobility, it’d be you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Wrathion.”

“Really? Then why are you smiling like that?”

“I’m not!”

“Oh yes you are~!”

“Shut up!”

The pair continued on with chatter. Wrathion told bits of his misadventures, leaving out a few details whether to protect his own pride or certain Maguses that are supposed to be dead. As Anduin listened, he was surprised to find how he had felt at ease. He didn’t feel alone, a rare luxury these days.

It wasn’t long before the pair finally found their way out from the servants’ passages. From there, their respective chambers were in opposite directions. Both boys stood in the hallway in awkward silence. Wrathion stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, uncertain what to do with himself. Anduin opened his mouth to speak, paused, and closed it again.

“I’m sorry.” Wrathion spoke up. “For everything I did. I hurt you, I made stupid decisions, and I trusted the wrong people.” Wrathion looked Anduin in the eye as he said it. Not hiding anything from him. “...’Intelligence isn’t wisdom’, I found that out the hard way. It doesn’t matter if I’m a dragon or the Earth Warder, at the end of the day, I’m just like you. I’m too young for my station and I have no clue what I’m doing.”

Anduin was silent as he listened and made no attempt to interrupt. Wrathion peeled back the layers, revealing himself as an equal. It was relieving but Anduin couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. Not yet, anyway.

Wrathion took a step back and was about to turn and walk back to his chambers.

“I’m not tired yet.” Anduin said, causing the princeling to pause. “If you’re not too tired, I wouldn’t mind hearing more of your music.”

Wrathion smiled back at him. “A personal show for royalty? I’d be honored, Anduin.”

Their reunion didn’t go the way that Wrathion had hoped but it did open the opportunity to start over.

- **The End** -


End file.
